


Jily Drabble Collection

by Harlow R (harlowrd)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-09-01 08:18:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8616535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harlowrd/pseuds/Harlow%20R
Summary: An assorted collection of Jily drabbles and one-shots.





	1. 9 Things Jamie Potter Knows About Liam Evans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genderswapped Jily. Because it’s cute as hell, that’s why.

There were many things people didn’t know about Liam Evans.

They didn’t know, for example, that whenever he got too sleepy to function – when it was almost midnight and he was one of the very few people left in the common room, frantically studying for upcoming exams and about to fall asleep on top of his Transfiguration essay – he’d start shivering, his nose would get runny, and he’d sneeze. Twice, three times in a minute. Oh, Jamie was sure other people noticed that he was sneezing, because he was actually a bit of a loud sneezer, but obviously they didn’t know _why_. But she did. It was because Liam Evans got cold when he got sleepy – and bloody hell if it wasn’t the cutest thing she’d ever seen in her life.

Another fact that she was sure slipped everyone else’s notice was that he often wore mismatched socks to classes, and it was an endless source of fascination for Jamie that prim and proper Evans would be deliberately – because _of course_ it was deliberate, what with how often it happened and the fact that this was _Evans_ – anything less than perfect in his personal presentation. He did, sometimes – very occasionally – remove his shoes in public, so Jamie supposed a few other people probably _had_ seen it, plus his dorm mates presumably saw him get dressed in the mornings (oh, how lucky they were). But _she_ saw it whenever he sat down at his desk in class and his trousers rode up a bit, or when he stretched out his long legs while sitting on his favourite spot on the couch in the common room. In fact, she might even be able to tell you which socks he usually paired with which, if surprise-quizzed on it. Though she admitted that might seem a smidge obsessive to other people.

Among many other things, really. Jamie doubted very much most people knew Liam took his coffee with a generous splash of milk and no sugar every morning (and some evenings as well, if he had too much homework to do); or that he never ate anything except fruit for breakfast because rich food made him queasy in the mornings; or that he sometimes forgot he wasn’t a muggle and tried to do things the hard way without even thinking about it; or that he didn’t believe in Divination but assumed he just didn’t understand it because he was muggle-born (which was bollocks if you asked Jamie – if he thought it was crap, then he had every right to think it was crap). Most people also didn’t know that despite their rocky relationship, Liam had never blamed Jamie for Snape’s betrayal of him, even before they’d become friendlier over sixth year. 

“Look, Potter,” he’d said, when she’d apologised specifically for that. “You were an arse and a bully to her and to a lot of other people and I’m not taking back any of what I said regarding that. But it’s not your fault that Severa called me what she did, that was her own decision.” And that had been that.

There were even a lot of secret things about him regarding Jamie herself which not a lot of people knew – excepting, of course, her obnoxious mates, to whom she’d blabbed about pretty much all of them in the past.

“I’m sorry to be the one to say this to you, love, but you’re completely delusional,” Sadira had told her over Exploding Snap, not looking very sorry at all. “Evans doesn’t have a secret, special smile for you – he hardly ever smiles at all, the poor sod!”

“That’s not true, actually,” Romola had defended. “Liam smiles plenty. You lot just don’t give him much reason to, is all.”

“Well, I suppose you’d know all about it, wouldn’t you, Moony – you do spend all that alone time with him on patrols…” Sadira had trailed off, either not seeing or choosing to ignore the jealous scowl on Jamie’s face at that comment.

“I don’t appreciate the insinuation, Padfoot. Liam is just a friend, and you know it,” Romola had added with a stern look directed at Jamie. “But yeah, I do spend more time with him than you lot do, thanks to patrols. And that’s how I know that he does smile quite a lot, given the right circumstances.” She had paused then. “And that’s also how I know that Jamie may not be that far off the mark with the secret smile thing.”

All three of the other girls had turned stunned eyes towards Romola. 

Patricia had recovered first, not bothering to hide a smile at Jamie’s no doubt pathetic grin. “Are you implying what I think you’re implying, here?”

“Well,” Romola had started, putting down her cards. “do I think he’s ready to jump into the nearest broom closet with Jamie for a snog, right now? No. Do I think he might be amenable to going for a butterbeer with her in the near-to-mid future? Yes, I do.”

Jamie had been sure she looked almost manic with glee in the silence that followed, and it hadn’t escaped Romola's notice.

“James,” she had started again, and the combination of the affectionate nickname and Romola’s grave tone had made the smile fade from Jamie’s face as she looked up at her friend. “Be careful with this information, now. Not just because you might scare Liam off if you come on too strong, but…” She had sighed. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, okay, love? Liam is a great guy, he really is, but no bloke is worth getting your heart shattered over. I want it to work between you two, and I think it possibly could, I really do. But it honestly gives me palpitations to see you just…jump into it, heart on your bloody sleeve, every single time,” Romola had said to her earnestly, with a frustrated sigh. Patricia had frowned at her in concern while Sadira had raised a puzzled eyebrow at the unexpected words. Jamie herself had been torn between annoyance and affection for her friend. Before she had been able to reply, though, Romola had continued. “Anyway, I just had to say it. So, yeah – Liam is probably starting to fancy you back.”

“About bloody time, then,” Sadira had interjected, seeming eager to swap the serious mood for their usual lighthearted banter. “Maybe the git’s finally starting to see what he’s missing by not having you in his life.” 

(Padfoot had always taken Evans’ rejections of Jamie rather personally, she thought.)

“Don’t call him that,” Jamie had admonished, but she couldn’t keep the smile off her face at the thought that finally – _finally_ – Evans might give her the time of day.

But there was one thing Jamie Potter discovered that she was absolutely, one hundred percent sure _no-one_ else knew about Liam Evans. And it quickly became her favourite, favourite thing about him – possibly her favourite thing in the entire universe.

And that was how foul-mouthed Liam Evans was when – and _only when_ – in the throes of lust. 

Because the thing was, Evans never really cursed. It was a constant source of teasing for the likes of Padfoot and Wormy – and even Jamie, if she were being honest – how clean his vocabulary was even when his temper rose. Even during their most epic and infamous fight, by the lake after the OWLs, his most extreme insult to her was “toe rag” – which, while rather expressive and very disgusting, and for that reason particularly offensive to her mates, was almost adorable an attempt as far as curse words went.

(To be fair, he had once hissed “Shit!” in Potions when his cauldron had toppled over and his entire work of the last couple of hours had been ruined. Considering that would have inspired a diatribe worthy of a fortnight of detention for Sadira, it said something with regards to how dire the situation had to be for Evans to utter such a mild curse word as “shit”. Slughorn had felt so bad for his favourite pupil that he’d just given him full marks anyway after that and let him go early, much to the annoyance of the rest of the class.)

So. Evans did not curse. He just didn’t.

Except he did, and all Jamie had to do to make him was palm his cock through his trousers in an empty classroom while he sucked on the sensitive spot below her ear.

“Oh, _fuck_ , Jamie––” was all that came out of his mouth before he went back to placing open-mouthed kisses on her throat and collarbone, returning the pressure of her hand on his crotch with eager little thrusts. Jamie’s eyes flew open in shock, but her expression soon morphed into a coy smirk of which he was entirely ignorant.

“That’s right,” she cooed, her free hand burrowed in his soft auburn hair as his own gripped her backside and the untamable curls at the nape of her neck. “That’s exactly right.”

Something in her tone must have broken through the haze of lust, because he detached his mouth from her skin long enough to look at her. “What?” Jamie almost laughed at how adorably confused he looked. Like a puppy. _Her_ dumb, hormonal puppy.

“That’s right,” she repeated, hovering her lips over his own, almost – but not quite – touching. “Fuck Jamie.” She felt rather than saw his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, and smiled at the flush staining his cheeks. “Fuck Jamie _hard_.” 

It didn’t take her long to snap him out of his embarrassment and eagerly back into their previous activities.

It also didn’t take her long at all to make him say it again – and again. And again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've embraced the cliché with those last few lines. Sorry, not sorry. Also their characterization is not a perfect transplant of James's and Lily's, and it's only one possibility out of thousands, all of which I'd love to explore more or less equally – i.e., this isn't necessarily my headcanon for what genderswapped Jily would be like, it's just a possibility.
> 
> Also, about their names: 
> 
> I picked Sadira for Sirius because it's a nice star name that begins with an S. I've seen people use 'Stella' for genderswapped Sirius, and while it is a very nice name, I doubt Walburga Black would name her daughter just "star"; she'd name her after a _specific_ star. Hence, Sadira.
> 
> As for Remus, I wanted to keep the wolfy theme so I went with Romola, which is close enough to Romulus and also a very pretty name IMO. James became Jamie (with James as a nickname, like one might call an Amy Ames) because I think it's adorable. And Peter became Patricia because Peter is a very normal, non-wizarding name and so is Patricia. And it's also a pretty name.
> 
> I went with Liam for Lily for no other reason except because I love the name Liam – even if it does ruin the flower theme. Oh well.


	2. Of Selflessness and Birthday Presents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily never expected she'd miss him so much on a day that was supposed to be all about her. Sixth year Jily.

He was in a lonely window seat in the fourth floor, his silhouette dimly lit by the dying sunlight. 

"Sirius said you'd be here."

James looked up, startled, then his face softened into an almost smile. Next he snorted softly and looked back down. "Did he."

Lily had somewhat expected this reaction, though it didn’t sting any less for it. No one really disappeared to go sit alone somewhere unless they didn’t want to be bothered, and she couldn’t help but feel that seeking him out had been a mistake. Even if it was her birthday, and she had missed his company all day. "Sorry, I don't mean to intrude. I'll just go."

"No, no! Stay.” His tone seemed genuine enough, but Lily chalked it up to his usual easy friendliness.

"Really, I don't want to bother you."

"You're not bothering me, Lily."

"Really? Because you made a face just now, like I was bothering you."

"And what face was that?"

"I don't know, a sort of... sardonic smile."

"A _sardonic smile_? Come on, Lily."

"What? That's what you looked like. Just now."

James rolled his eyes. "Fine, maybe I did give a sardonic smile just now, but believe me, it was not directed at you."

"No?"

"No."

“Oh.” Lily shifted uncomfortably. "What then?"

“Just… got reminded of a private joke I have with Sirius."

She lifted an eyebrow. “Really."

“Yeah.” James laughed a bit at her skepticism. "I promise you the sardonic smile was not about you, it was about Sirius. Now come here." He patted the seat beside him. Still hesitant, Lily walked over to him and sat slightly farther away from him than the spot he’d originally indicated. He didn’t seem to notice. “Besides,” he continued, his tone jovial, "like I'd ever pass up an opportunity to be around you." He winked at her, smiling.

Lily made a face at that. He laughed again.

"No need to look like that, I won't ask you out or anything, I promise."

For some reason, that mortified her. "No, I--"

"It's okay,” he interrupted, placing a friendly arm around her shoulders. “I was just teasing."

"No, really, I wasn't thinking about that,” Lily insisted, driven by the need to explain herself to him. "It's just...when you say things like that, it makes me feel sort of... bad. Like I'm taking advantage or something.” She chanced a glance at him then, only to see him looking at her like she’d just said she was quitting Hogwarts to become a disco star. 

"You're not taking advantage of me, Lily."

“Not on purpose, anyway."

James sighed. "Lily. You couldn't take advantage of me – or anyone – even if you tried. It’s against your nature. You're just too selfless a person for that to ever happen.”

“I’m not that selfless.”

“You’re _plenty_ selfless,” he countered, his fingers gently squeezing her shoulder. “I have never seen you use someone in all the time I’ve known you. Get used – yeah,” he amended, his tone growing slightly colder and giving her no doubt as to just whom he was referring to, “but use? No. Face it, you’re just too good to do something like that.”

Lily had no answer. It was always like this whenever he expressed just how highly he thought of her – a strange mix of pleasure and pain in her gut, her heart at once skipping beats and aching softly. She wanted to–– to hug him, maybe; kiss his cheek and feel his arms around her, burrow into the safety of him. Maybe run away screaming as well – jury was still out on that one. 

"It's one of the things I really like about you, you know,” he continued, still conversationally if a bit more softly. "You make me feel… safe. You’re incorruptible, and I know that I can trust you.”

Lily looked up him, slightly alarmed. “I…wow. Thank you.”

“It’s just the truth,” he said with finality. “Happy birthday, by the way,” he added, kissing her gently on the temple and sending her heart racing. "Sorry I didn’t get to tell you in the morning. I had detention, then practice all afternoon, then I came up here. But… you were in my thoughts.” His thumb rubbed her upper arm and his voice was soft when he said that last bit, and Lily wished she could die just a little. She cleared her throat instead.

“Oh, this reminds me. I came here to thank you for my gift,” she said, turning toward him and smiling shyly. How in the hell he’d procured a first edition Austen, she had no idea; but she’d been elated to find it at the foot of her bed that morning.

James smiled broadly at that. “Did you like it? I couldn’t find the one you were reading the other day, so I got this one in the hopes you’d also like it.”

“Yeah, of course!” Lily couldn’t help but smile back. She had been reading _Pride and Prejudice_ , and he’d gotten her _Persuasion_. “No, it’s…perfect. I love _Persuasion_ , it’s one of my favourite novels. Such good condition, too!”

“It may have had a couple of restoring charms cast on it. And a preserving one. Which you may want to reinforce, as you’re a far superior charmer than myself.” He winked at her.

Lily rolled her eyes at the double entendre. “Hardly. Also it’s quite bizarre to see you being modest in any capacity, I have to say.”

“Now, see? Even you admit modesty doesn’t become me." 

“I never said that.”

James laughed. “Fine. I’ll keep trying. Shall we get back to Gryffindor Tower?”

Lily nodded, and they rose, his arm slipping from her shoulders as he placed both hands in his pockets. She felt the loss of its warmth keenly in the chilly January air.

They walked in comfortable silence, steps echoing in the torch-lit hallway. Before they reached the portrait, Lily stopped, placing a hand on his arm to stop him also. He turned to her, brows raised in curiosity. “I just,” she began, taking a deep breath, “wanted you to know. I feel really safe with you, too.”

James smiled slightly, his eyes soft in the torch glow – too soft to bear, almost. Like she was the best thing he’d ever looked at. “Good,” he said, smile widening. “I’m glad.”

Unable to hold his gaze any longer, Lily smiled and looked down, turning toward the portrait to give the password and feeling his eyes on her all the while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another cliché in the form of Austen fan!Lily, and do I care? No, dear readers, I do not.
> 
> I thought I was going to have to fudge the truth there a little, but it turns out January 30 1977 was actually a Sunday! Yay.


	3. Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James accidentally witnesses one of Lily’s personal rituals. Sixth year Jily.

It was a fact universally acknowledged at Hogwarts that weekends began earlier and earlier for the older students as the school year progressed. Of course, that was only because they usually got so much homework that one might argue they _had_ no real weekends anymore, not when they often spent their entire Sundays fretting over several essays due the next week. 

It was as if a collective, tacit resolution permeated the Seventh, Sixth, and even Fifth years: since schoolwork seemed to invade their downtime so aggressively, they might as well allow their fun to penetrate regular weekdays as well. If the boundary between work and play was going to be blurred, then it was going to be completely blurred. And that was why one might find oneself invited to attend parties with themes like “Spring Is Only Seven Weeks Away!” and “Six Out of Nine People in Our Year Got a T on Last Week’s Practice Transfiguration Exam!” as early in the week as a Wednesday night. 

James Potter should know, as he got invited to all of them. And so did his mates - some for their own merits, others just for being known for being his mates. It was fun at first, the novelty of partying in the Hufflepuff common room until three and stumbling into Charms the next day (one could only cut so much class, after all) literally wishing for death. By the second term of his Sixth year though, it could be said that James had become quite a bit more selective in the parties he chose to attend. In fact, it took more than a little incentive to guarantee his attendance those days.

Lily Evans’s presence certainly counted as a powerful incentive. The most powerful, one might even say. And it had worked the night before, a Thursday, when the Gryffindors threw one of the best impromptu parties of the year.

So it was no wonder that that Friday morning found every single Gryffindor Sixth year ambling into class (History of Magic, for fuck’s sake - was that really any way to encourage them to take Fridays seriously?) bleary-eyed and morose. Ten minutes after class had started, more than half of them were sound asleep on their desks.

Out of habit, James had picked a desk behind and to the right of Lily, and as he laid his chin on his hand, his gaze strayed naturally to her. 

There wasn’t much to watch, truth be told; she had barely moved at all and for several minutes had been staring at the blackboard, too tired to even do her usual note taking. But the sight of her was so familiar, and so pleasant, that he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt his passive, sleepy staring, taking in the freckles on her forearms, the shape of her nails, the way the ends of her shoulder-length hair curled sometimes inwards and sometimes outwards.

He blinked when she suddenly drew out her wand. Wondering vaguely if she was going to hex anyone awake, he watched as she next removed a circular, flat object from her bag and placed it on her desk. Sticking her hand inside her bag a second time, she drew out a smaller, zippered, pale green pouch, from which she removed a black glass bottle with a plastic cap, something that looked like scissors but with a weird curved thing at the end, and another cilindrical, plastic object. It rolled away from where she’d placed it on the desk, arriving dangerously close to the edge before she stilled it, clicking her tongue impatiently.

Narrowing his eyes curiously, James observed her silent, careful movements as she replaced the pouch inside her bag and proceeded to open the circular thing - a handheld mirror - and levitate it up to eye level. After a quick glance at a still oblivious Binns, she twisted the plastic cap off the black bottle and pulled out a brush dipped in shiny, black liquid. Turning her face slightly, Lily drew a thin, angled line from the outer corner of her eye, glanced straight ahead at her reflection, then drew an identical line on her other eye. Her mouth curved downwards in a scowl - quite familiar to James, as it happened, but this time clearly directed at herself. She then licked her left index finger and proceeded to rub off the second line with a disappointed shake of her head. When she drew it a second time, she stared at the mirror a lot longer before finally tapping a dozing Marlene on the shoulder.

“Marley?” she called distractedly, still evaluating her reflection. Marlene twisted in her chair to face Lily, questioning eyebrows raised, but Lily only turned her gaze from the mirror to Marlene, offering no other explanation. It soon became obvious that none was needed, however, when Marlene simply glanced from one eye to the other before nodding and turning back to the front of the class.

Lily dipped the brush back in the bottle and carefully drew another line on each eyelid, this time along her eyelashes. She spent several moments perfecting each eye before twisting the cap back on the bottle and picking up the scissor-like thing. James’s eyes widened in horror as she somehow fit the thing around her upper lashes and then squeezed it shut, crushing her eyelashes between the parts of the thing. From her unfazed expression, though, either it didn’t hurt or (most likely) she was so used to it that she didn’t bat an eye at what was clearly meant to be some sort of torture device. She did the same to the other eye (James glanced away, cringing) and placed the thing back on the desk. 

The last item on her desk - the black, cylindrical, plastic object - was meant to paint her eyelashes black, James realized, as he watched her run a sideways brush through her upper and lower lashes repeatedly. It hadn’t occurred to him until that moment, but Lily’s eyelashes were light-coloured, lighter even than her hair probably, and she consistently painted them black almost every day. He made a quick mental note to observe that more closely the next time he saw her with no makeup on.

Lily had twisted the cap of the eyelash paint shut when Marlene turned backwards in her seat again. “Do me?” she asked. Lily nodded, but then paused, considering. After glancing at Binns once again, she shrugged. 

Picking up her three items, Lily stood from her chair and walked around to Marlene’s desk in front of hers, plopping down on the dark-skinned girl’s lap and attracting a few curious looks from their awake classmates in the process. Lifting his chin from his hand in surprise, James watched as Marlene lay back and closed her eyes while Lily carefully drew on her friend’s eyelids, presumably the same thin black lines with the little tails that Lily was sporting herself. James glanced at Padfoot, sitting to his right, who only raised an eyebrow before going back to doodling on his parchment.

“Thanks, Lils,” he heard Marlene murmur after Lily finished painting her eyelashes as well. Lily smiled and walked back to her seat. As she started to put away her things, James could resist no longer.

“Hey Evans,” he called quietly. He saw her take the moment to give a small put-upon sigh before turning to face him, but when she did, there was a small smirk pulling at her lips and her flat look took a teasing edge. He threw her a smile. “Will you do me next?”

She didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, absolutely, Potter. Yeah– in fact, I think I’ll make your wings so large maybe you’ll fly away and never return. Your broomstick doesn’t seem to be doing the trick, it always brings you back.”

James chuckled and as she turned back to her desk, he saw her smirk blossom into a smile.


End file.
